Cousins -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Orphans -- Juvenile fiction
Seeing the wholesome effects of her treatment upon these culprits, Rose
felt that she might relent and allow them a gleam of hope. She found
it impossible to help trampling upon the prostrate Prince a little, in
words at least, for he had hurt her feelings oftener than he knew; so
she gave him a thimble-pie on the top of his head, and said, with an air
of an infinitely superior being,
“Don't be silly, but get up, and I'll tell you something much better to
do than sprawling on the floor and getting all over lint.”
Charlie obediently sat himself upon a hassock at her feet; the other
sinners drew near to catch the words of wisdom about to fall from her
lips, and Rose, softened by this gratifying humility, addressed them in
her most maternal tone.
“Now, boys, if you really want to be good to Mac, you can do it in this
way. Don't keep talking about things he can't do, or go and tell what
fun you have had batting your ridiculous balls about. Get some nice book
and read quietly; cheer him up about school, and offer to help him study
by and by; you can do that better than I, because I'm only a girl, and
don't learn Greek and Latin and all sorts of headachy stuff.”
“Yes, but you can do heaps of things better than we can; you've proved
that,” said Archie, with an approving look that delighted Rose, though
she could not resist giving Charlie one more rebuke, by saying, with a
little bridling of the head, and a curl of the lip that wanted to smile
instead,
“I'm glad you think so, though I am a 'queer chicken.”'
This scathing remark caused the Prince to hide his face for shame, and
Steve to erect his head in the proud consciousness that this shot was
not meant for him. Archie laughed, and Rose, seeing a merry blue
eye winking at her from behind two brown hands, gave Charlie's ear a
friendly tweak, and extended the olive-branch of peace.
“Now we'll all be good, and plan nice things for poor Mac,” she said,
smiling so graciously that the boys felt as if the sun had suddenly
burst out from behind a heavy cloud and was shining with great
brilliancy.
The storm had cleared the air, and quite a heavenly calm succeeded,
during which plans of a most varied and surprising sort were laid, for
everyone burned to make noble sacrifices upon the shrine of “poor
Mac,” and Rose was the guiding star to whom the others looked with most
gratifying submission. Of course, this elevated state of things could
not endure long, but it was very nice while it lasted, and left an
excellent effect upon the minds of all when the first ardour had
subsided.
“There, that's ready for to-morrow, and I do hope it will be cloudy,”
said Rose, as she finished off the new shade, the progress of which the
boys had watched with interest.
“I'd bespoken an extra sunny day, but I'll tell the clerk of the weather
to change it. He's an obliging fellow, and he'll attend to it, so make
yourself easy,” said Charlie, who had become quite perky again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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